What Should Have Been
by The Sithspawn
Summary: One Shot. Winterfell, the way the world should have been.


**What Should Have Been**

**Author's Notes**: Yes I'm still alive and writing. This is just a little something that came to me. Had to write it to clear away some mental space. Warning, gets pretty angsty.

**Summary:** One Shot. Winterfell, the way the world should have been.

**Rating:** T+; adult themes, swearing and innuendo, but nothing really smutty.

**Ned Stark**

The Greatjon's laugh boomed across the great hall of Winterfell. And again Ned winced, as the big man slapped him enthusiastically on the back, congratulating him on his uncanny luck.

"You're a lucky, lucky man, Ned!" Greatjon boomed with a drunken leer.

In her seat, Ashara's violet eyes danced mischievously, even as her face remained unchanged as she watched him squirm. She was resplendent in Stark grey, the Stark direwolf embroidered boldly on her new cloak.

"...how an ugly northerner like you managed to grab such a beautiful southern rose- I'll never know!" Greatjon exclaimed merrily, "Maybe one day you'll share the secret with me?" he cajoled with another laugh.

Ned smiled politely and opened his mouth to speak but Brandon beat him to it.

"You're a married man, Greatjon! And I know your wife! She'd cut your balls off and feed them to you if she saw you eyeing my goodsister- _like you're dong now!_" Brandon roared cheekily.

Greatjon huffed unhappily and took a gulp from his goblet, as Brandon laughed at his expense.

Brandon turned back to his own new wife, Catelyn Stark was sitting next to him with an embarrassed smile on her face at Brandon's crassness. The future Lady of Winterfell was spending not an inconsiderable amount of her time embarrassed at Brandon's brash nature and untempered tongue.

For Ned, none of it mattered. It was all like a dream for him as he gazed at his wife- _his wife;_ Ashara Stark, resplendent in Stark grey.

Here he was was at his own wedding, surrounded by his family and friends- including the new King of the Seven Kingdoms, his new goodbrother. He looked across the room.

Lyanna was smiling proudly as father bounced her new son on his lap. The baby, little Jaehaerys, all dark curls and chubby cheeks smiled and giggled happily, waving his arms in joy. Despite all of Lyanna's boyish nature, she'd taken to motherhood with a joy, he'd only ever seen in her that happy when she was galloping around Winterfell on her prize horse.

King Rhaegar's normally somber face was open as he shared a smile with Lyanna at their son's innocent giggles. Next to him, Queen Elia chatted idly with her brother, Prince Oberyn Martell, as little Aegon decided to catch a nap in the middle of the festivities on his mother's lap.

The little Princess, Rhaenys came up to Rickard Stark's knee and started making faces at her brother, causing Jaehaerys to giggle even more as the stern and icy Lord of Winterfell melted and smiled warmly at the pair.

Rickard Stark may not have approved in the beginning of Lyanna's forsaking of her betrothal to Robert Baratheon...but he'd come around in the end.

Ned may not have been privy to all of the arrangements between the King and Queen and Lyanna- but Ashara was. Queen Elia seemed happy, as were Rhaegar and Lyanna. Elia had even seemed to take on a mothering attitude towards the younger Lyanna.

Benjen came up to Lyanna and started teasing her mercilessly as he always had and did these days. Lyanna Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Apparently, the Greatjon wasn't finished yet, he rose from his seat, "Your Graces, Lord Stark, it's getting late, I think it's time that our couple are _bedded_!"

Ned's mood darkened as a cheer arose from the other wedding guests, without a thought he rose from his chair, "There will be no bedding!" The thought of all those men pawing at his Ashara made his blood boil.

"Come on, Ned," Brandon began, getting up from his chair and coming to stand next to the Greatjon, "You can't deny us. This is _tradition_!" he shouted out, before winking outrageously at Ashara.

Ned's face redden and he opened his mouth to retort angrily, but a warm hand on his arm stopped him, he turned and found Ashara coming to stand by him.

She looked him in the eye, there was a strange look in her eye, "Your Graces, my Lords, a bedding is _traditional_...but you'll have to catch us _first_!" she grabbed Ned's hand and dashed off, dragging Ned behind her. It took him a second but he realised what she was doing and they raced off together, all dignity and decorum forgotten.

He heard Lyanna and Benjen's laughter echoing behind them even as Brandon and Greatjon shouted in surprise. He paid them no attention as he ran away with his new bride. He could hear Brandon and Greatjon coming after them, but he and Ashara were already at the doorway of the Great Hall.

They made their escape and the last thing that Ned saw, was Greatjon and Brandon coming to a skidding stop, their outraged and leering looks being replaced with concern as a fully armed and armored Arthur Dayne stepped between them and the doorway. Shoulder to shoulder to him was an equally armored Jaime Lannister, standing loyally by his mentor's side.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

The got to his room breathless, slamming and locking the door behind them.

Ashara's laughter filled the room, "I didn't think that would work."

Ned smiled, "Your brother and his _shadow_ stopped them."

She nodded and smiled widely, "That would do it. Arthur always was overprotective. And Jaime's always been too earnest for his own good."

"And I will always be thankful to _them_," Ned retorted happily.

Ashara smiled coyly at him, and suddenly he was very nervous. Her eyes didn't leave him as she slowly sat down on his bed.

"So this is your room. Not very many decorations...not that I expected that from you, but I like it. It's simple and honest, just like you. Well come on then...this bed awaits your _first_ conquest," Ashara's dusky voice beckoned him, her eyes filled with mischief, her hand patting the bed beside her.

Ned swallowed suddenly, his own room suddenly feeling very crowded and very warm. She beckoned him forward again and he found his feet moving all on their own.

This wasn't Harrenhal, this was his room in Winterfell and she was his wife now. He sat down next to her and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, kissing him passionately.

He was lost in her, the culmination of the dream that started in Harrenhal.

Eventually they broke apart and Ashara smiled as she licked her lips seductively, her purple eyes aflame with passion, her lovely dark tresses framing her face, "Well that was a good beginning," she said huskily.

Her words filled him with a deep warmth and he kissed her again, as the world seemed to fade away around them.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

His eyes opened, and the warm feeling was suddenly gone. His room was cold and empty now.

He trembled...no he wasn't alone. There was a woman next to him. But the woman beside him was not his Ash.

Ashara's dark tresses were gone, replaced with fiery red tresses. She rolled over and opened her eyes. The cold blue eyes of Catelyn Stark stared back at him.

A part of him recoiled. His contentment collapsed in on itself as his mind grew clear.

Ashara was dead, smashed against the rocks at the base of the Palestone Sword tower of Starfall.

Arthur Dayne was dead, his blood staining _Ice,_ wielded by Eddard's own hand.

Rhaegar was dead, crushed under Robert's Warhammer.

Elia was dead, crushed under a Mountain stained with her son's own blood.

Father was dead, ashes in the wind.

Brandon was dead, blood shot eyes and a rope around his neck.

Lyanna was dead, in a pool of her own blood.

….and he was married to Catelyn Tully, not Brandon.

"Good morning, my Lord," Catelyn said hesitantly.

He managed to make himself smile back and nodded back at her. The dream drove him from his marriage bed and to the nursery. He gathered his clothes and dressed, before fleeing from the room.

He didn't realise where he was going till he got there. He found himself entering the nursery. Nan was there keeping a watchful eye on the babies, she smiled when she saw him, just as she had always had when he was young. He nodded and approached the cribs. Robb was still asleep but Jaehaerys- no _Jon_, was awake and looking around. Lyanna's eyes in the baby's face stared up at him and the ache in his heart grew.

He took a deep breath and reached down to pick the boy up. The boy smiled at him and giggled. Ned held Jon close as he took a seat next to Nan. The old woman smiled at him and Jon. She'd seen so many generations of Starks be born and grow up. He didn't trust anyone with Jon except her...at least for now.

They sat together as Ned gently rocked Jon in his arms as Lyanna's final pleading tone haunted him.

_Promise me, Ned._

_Promise me, Ned._

_I promised, Lya...I promised...he will be safe_, he vowed silently.

**Author's Notes:** Ok don't ask me why I wrote this when I should be finishing the Raven's Plan. I just had to write it...and all I know is that it felt like I was stabbing myself in the heart as I wrote this. _Repeatedly_. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed (that's probably the wrong word...) this melancholy look at Ned's 'what if'. Don't forget to Review! :D


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